A Moment for the Fallen
by Miracles79
Summary: How does Commander Shepard's tale end? Will he ever see Miranda Lawson again? Or will it all be too late? This story will be a re imagining of the ending, while working within the context of the existing one. No sudden changes will be made but instead an ending which has both finality and clearer direction for remaining characters... I hope you enjoy
1. Chapter 1: What we fight for

Mass Effect

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A Moment for the Fallen

By Miracles79

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Chapter 1: What we fight for.

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Disclaimer: The property of Mass Effect and its Universe do not belong to me, I am merely a fan, the characters and property belong solely to Bioware.

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They were safe. Garrus and Liara had finally made it aboard the Normandy SR-2 and were, as we speak, on their way to safety. A safety which Shepard could ill afford as he looked up at the towering structure of Harbinger; protecting the last hope humanity, or any other species, had in defeating the Reapers.

Without further preamble Shepard sprinted away from where the Normandy SR-2 last resided and continued towards the beacon, the desperate cries of pain coming from fallen marines echoing within the background as he dodged laser after laser.

One last push was all he needed. He was so close, close to ending a war which had been fought not only in his lifetime but in many previous lifetimes too. He had to end this. End the genocide, the harvesting of organic life; but as he watched the Normandy hover out of his peripheral vision and took in the first, created, Reaper he knew his task was practically insurmountable. But this didn't stop him; after all he had accomplished the impossible many times before and this time would be no different.

Pushing forward, the pain in his lungs amplifying by the second, Shepard dodged a carefully placed laser before essentially having to roll away from another attack which scorched a fellow marine's armour down all the way to the bone; a pool of blood bursting from where the marine had previously been. But he continued, his movement becoming more desperate as he was once again thrown to the ground by an incoming laser; how long would this continue?

Shepard was unsteady, swaying slightly from side to side as the ground beneath him shook with a violent intent. It was only then when Shepard stopped that he realised the evitable was about to occur. His eyes turning to face Harbinger as the Leviathan like creature scanned the battlefield; its eye focusing on the sole man who had brought his legion into so much discourse… a man he had been waiting for all along.

The air was practically palpable and as Harbinger moved his colossal body to face the intruding soldier; Its eye began to radiate a dark red heat… a sole purposeful intent ready to be utilised.

"**Serve us!"**

And then… everything went white…

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"It's too much. We need to regroup. Fall back to the buildings…"

Stirring, Shepard slowly opened his eyes. Blurry images steadily converging into his present surroundings… a bright light cutting through the clouds from a vessel placed several feet away from him. Groaning in unimaginable pain, Shepard blindly reached out for his heavy pistol, the M5- Phalanx, which was seemingly out of reach no matter how many times he sought it. When he finally gripped the pistols holder he dragged it towards him; the effort of doing so causing his body to groan in protest.

With his pistol now firmly held within his hand Shepard carefully inspected his surroundings. A difficult feat when a soaring pain ached throughout his entire body, not to mention the persistent buzzing which permeated around his ears… the only comparison that he could make was that of 20 concussion grenade's falling at his position at once, a situation he had found himself in on more than one occasion.

Before Shepard could grow accustomed to the pain crippling his body another voice echoed within his vicinity… whether from a retreating soldier or perhaps through his melted radio, Shepard could not say.

"Hammer's wiped out. All forces… retreat."

Retreat…?

Before Shepard could digest this perplexing news, a loud ominous sound reverberated throughout the battlefield. Its origin some were high up in the clouds from what the Commander could vaguely discern. Without further notice Shepard's eyes shifted to the sight of Harbinger off in the distance. His red, burning eye focusing on him showering the Commander in a bask of red light. But then, rather than finish the job that it had started, Harbinger left… flying up into the sky and away from the one place that could decide the fate of the Reapers.

Where was it going…?

Shifting in place, Shepard watched Harbinger's ascension with understandable confusion. It had seen him, hadn't it…? No, Shepard knew Harbinger had seen him awaken from his unconscious state and more importantly that he was mere feet away from reach the Citadel. So why did Harbinger simply leave, leaving the Commander to dictate the fate of the known galaxy…?

Was he re-joining the battle in Earth's sky…?

And why had it abandoned the one device which could win this war…?

Especially since Harbinger had seen fit to personally defend the only place where this war could be won?

So many unanswered questions and yet Shepard didn't have the time to dwell on them, especially since his mind was addled from the burning collision. That was not the only damage sustained to his person however, the Commander's face was badly scarred and underneath the scorched armour blood trickled through gaps… And from the startling amount of blood the Commander was bleeding profusely.

Despite the sickening trails of blood staining his hand, Shepard gripped his heavy pistol securely and with renewed purpose. That was right; it didn't matter why Harbinger left… he still had a job to do.

Many people would have been surprised by Shepard's frank determination. On normal occasion's the Commander would have carefully assessed the situation, considering all possibilities available to him before making the appropriate decision but on this occasion he didn't. He couldn't. Not only was there no time to ponder these things but the burns and apparent concussion Shepard suffered at the hands of Harbinger brought all thought process down to one single thing.

Four words that he repeated over and over again in his head, channelling the thought like it was his personal mantra… "I have to end this!"

With as much effort as he can manage Shepard staggers to his feet; his knee and pistol supporting his weight as his limbs give under the exertive pressure… but he stands none the less.

"Pull back! Pull back!"

Ignoring the words which reverberated within the stale air, Shepard turned towards the bright burning light and willed his body to move forward. Every step measured so that his body can handle his slow yet obviously painful movements.

As he approaches the beam Shepard notices the body of an alliance soldier desperately crawling his way towards him; pain and fear clearly etched upon his face. The soldier's efforts were for nought however as he then crumpled at the Commander's feet; his last moments spent staring up at the Commander with a look Shepard was all too familiar with. It was an expression Shepard had seen many times before; a look of hopelessness and a wish for he, Commander Shepard, to save him. But like all the rest before him he dies without assistance or even the faintest assurance that all will be okay.

Tearing his eyes away from the fallen soldier, Shepard grimaces at the sight which surrounds him. A bloody massacre had occurred here, that much was for certain. On either side of him, Mako's lie strewn around the battlefield; toppled over or left to nothing more than spare parts thanks to Harbinger's beam. Deceased and charred Alliance soldier's no longer identifiable from just a simple look, their bodies either spread sparingly or carelessly piled on top of each other… had somebody moved them or did they all die together, in a messy heap?

He wouldn't have been surprised if they had been. This war had shown Shepard things he could have never imagined and not always in the good sense. But as he looked at the grotesque view he was presented with Shepard noted that this would be one of many gruesome scenes he would have witnessed in the last 4 years.

Ignoring the fallen, Shepard begins to slowly limp towards the beam; every step causing a searing pain to roll down his side. Subsiding momentarily until the process started all over again. An endless cycle of pain which was beginning to manifest from deep within him; internal injuries become more and more severe by the second.

Grimacing with every step, Commander Shepard walked through the fallen Alliance soldier's without a single glance in their direction; his attention focused solely on the beam which would take him to the Citadel; his current, and perhaps final, goal.

Suddenly, and practically out of nowhere, three deranged husks slithered up from cracks in the ground and with vile intent sprinted towards the injured Commander. With a great amount of effort the Commander hoisted his heavy pistol aloft, the weight of the weapon almost causing his fingers to loosen around the handle due to the pain which intensified within his body, but with a determined look Shepard pointed it towards the vile creatures.

Despite the sudden introduction of his weapon, the husks did not stop their pursuit or flee to safety but they rather seemed to ignore the present danger and instead charged towards him at a greater velocity; climbing over knee high debris and stepping on the fallen which lay strewn all around them.

… All it took were three precise shots, the Commander's heavy pistol recoiling slightly with every well placed shot. The husks toppled one by one, the bullet cutting through both flesh and whatever remained of their disconnected brains. Even outnumbered and gravely injured Commander Shepard dealt with the situation as only he could; with absolute precision and efficiency. No wasted motion and no wasted ammo.

It was only when the Commander started moving again that the pain became too much to bear. Staggering, as his knees gave out, Shepard collapsed to the ground… his world was spinning all around him and the agonizing pain became almost unbearable as his body became gradually more unresponsive to his demands.

Lying their motionless, Shepard attempted to catch his breath while his bodies energy reserves drained away… the effort of standing nothing but a distant memory as his arms gave way and he collapsed to the ground once again, grunting with every laboured breath he was forced to take.

His eye lids were growing heavy, the pain suddenly numbing as his breath grew shallow. In the back of his mind he heard his own voice pleading, imploring him to get up; to finish what he had started. But he didn't move. He couldn't move… not that he tried especially hard. His mind and body had been completely drained of energy and from the large puddle of blood forming underneath him he knew he had little time left.

Was this it…?

Was this how it was all going to end…?

Slowly his consciousness began to slip away… darkness pressing in all around him as the light of his eyes faded…

It was then, without any sort of warning, that another voiced cut through the darkness and entered his dwindling thoughts. A voice he had heard only the day before and yet a voice that he had missed since the day she left the Normandy. He concentrated on this voice, the words he heard at first sounded indiscernible to his ears but the familiar tone which was intertwined kept him listening.

"M-Miranda?" Shepard mumbled unsure of himself.

As if on cue, the soft tone of Miranda's voice finally resurfaced and the words she spoke became very much audible as he lay motionless; listening to the words of the woman he had fallen in love with.

"Shepard…" there was a strange echo like quality to her words as Shepard listened intently, "I wanted to say goodbye…"

Shepard remembered these words vividly and everything about the conversation that succeeded it. So without pondering her words Shepard listened to the voice and the message it had to convey… remembering his responses as the voice whispered to him. As if Miranda was really here, next to him; with him until the very end.

"What do you mean?" his inner voice whispered sounding just as strained as his body felt right now.

"If we both come back from this at all, everything… will be different."

"Sure everything will change- but on our terms. We've been running until now Miranda. It has to… stop." Shepard's last words were almost silenced unexpectedly as the pain began to intensify gradually… his fingers clenching around the heavy pistol which was previously held loosely within his grasp.

"I understand. I just… Wish I was there. With you."

These words hit Shepard harder than he could have ever expected. A strange mixture of feelings collided together as he considered Miranda's words. Of course he wanted Miranda to be here, with him; he wanted to protect and ensure that she sees out this war whatever the cost… not that she was un-capable of defending herself. She was, perhaps, even more capable than the great Commander Shepard considering her perfect genes which displayed both beauty and superiority… but did not define it.

But, if she had been there, would she have survived Harbingers brief assault. Would she, like these soldiers', be nothing more than a burnt corpse whose features now appeared both deformed and unnatural. Could he really protect her from all this? When he couldn't even save the Alliance soldier's whose eyes pierced him as he lay there groaning in unimaginable pain.

But before he could decide for himself his inner thoughts spoke for him; speaking a truth that he knew was very much real.

"Me too."

After all, Shepard had worked alongside Miranda and knew how capable she was but other than that; having Miranda close made him work that much harder, fight that much longer. If she had been here, Miranda would have kicked him into, or more like berated him, into shape and demanded that he got off his blasted ass and get to the Citadel…

She would have seen her mission through to the end no matter the cost…

And she would have assured Shepard's wellbeing, in more ways than one…

She wouldn't have allowed the great Commander Shepard to die… not when she now had a future with Shepard at its epi-centre.

That was right. He wasn't doing this just for the rest of the known galaxy… but also for the future she had dreamed they would one day share. A future he would share alongside one Miranda Lawson; ex Cerberus officer and the most intriguing and fascinating woman he had ever met. He was doing this for her… he couldn't give up now; not when he was so close.

"I don't know what to say?" Miranda questioned, her voice sounding forlorn even through the echoey nature of her words. Grunting loudly Shepard placed his hands firmly against the ground and lifted himself slightly above the ground; his teeth gritted together in both pain and concentration, his face a cloak of determination.

"Don't say goodbye…"

Silenced followed these words… the air around Shepard practically tangible now.

"Then finish this Shepard. And find me…"

And as those words echoed within his mind, Shepard clenched his fingers against the dirt and with a cry of pain lifted himself to his feet; stumbling slightly from the force he had exerted on both his hands and feet.

He had almost forgotten his promise to Miranda, that he would not only live to see the end of this war but that they would start from where they left off… build a family as they had always wanted. This recent realisation was brought about by Miranda Lawson who, during her infrequent visits to the Citadel, confided her deepest wish to raise a family with the Commander. A sentiment that Shepard gradually warmed to the longer he had to think about it; after all the bloodshed and horror Shepard believed he deserved to find happiness and Miranda's deepest dream was one he could easily get behind… because Miranda was his happiness.

Now, Shepard had something to fight for but more importantly; he had something to live for. And with that renewed purpose in mind, Shepard staggered forward and proceeded towards the beam at a slightly faster rate ignoring the blood which coated his burnt armour and the unlikelihood of his survival.

"I will… I promise."

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As Shepard walked forward, noticing a deceased soldier slouched against a nearby cover point, as well as observing the man's last dying moments, the Commander suddenly noticed a sharp movement out of the corner of his eye and before he could react to the sudden stimuli… a bullet, from an Alliance issue Assault Rifle, was launched directly into Shepard's shoulder. Blood was ejected as the bullet tore through his clavicle before the bullet nestled deep within a bundle of deep nerves which caused the Commander to cry out in uncontrolled pain.

The sudden pain caused Shepard to clutch his shoulder momentarily, as his body flailed under the unexpected impact… but with both anger and determination in his eyes the Commander smoothly straightened up and fired two shots; the first breaking through the barrier the Marauder had arisen and the second was expertly lodged directly between its eyes.

Despite the pain, and the blood pouring from his newest open wound, Shepard ignored it and proceeded forward at a slightly more erratic pace. The stiffness in his left knee- which could no longer bend through sheer power alone- causing his body to limp more noticeably than before. As he moved forward Shepard's body began to sway… his left leg keeping him steady while his right moved him ever forward; his limp far more pronounced now that he was breaking into a jog, hands outstretched to cover his eyes- grunts of pain and exertion leaving his bloodied mouth as he moved- before he finally reached the beam and vanished from sight.

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Meanwhile, up in Earth's sky, the fight continued unabated. The Normandy SR-2 evading its pursuer's with calculated ease unlike many of the other vessels which were being slaughtered overhead. Geth, Turian, Quarian and human Alliance ships were being steadily overpowered; the sheer size and power of the Reapers easily cutting through fragile lines of defence. The surviving ships being forced to disperse and re-group in another attempt to take the Reaper on under more one sided circumstances, Guerrilla warfare at its finest and yet still it wasn't enough. The Reapers always seemed to win every battle that their enemies presented them… it was only a matter of time now.

But despite this, drawing stealthily towards the air bourn battlefield, the Crucible approached. A nearby star fleet ship, commanded by Admiral Hackett, watched the battle. The admiral's calm and calculating features never giving away the obvious hopelessness of their task; now that they were being increasingly overwhelmed by Reaper forces but more importantly because Hammer team, the one team who couldn't fail, had failed. Commander Shepard… the man who had brought them to this point was reported KIA. All was now lost…

Sighing in hidden resignation, hurried footsteps halted the Admiral's actions as he turned to face the approaching officer- saluting and such forgotten- it was only then that the exhausted officer handed him a piece of intel…

While the Admiral scanned the information in his hands silently, the officer took this opportunity to vanish from sight and back to his work station. Take one look to watch the officer leave, Admiral Hackett returned his attention to the object in his hands and inspected the content carefully… before a small, relieved, smile reached his lips.

"Holy shit. He did it."

Someone, according to this report, had reached the Citadel… and the Admiral knew of only one man who could have accomplished such an implausible feat. A man who had attempted more than one suicide mission in his time, and lived to tell the tale. Maybe just maybe there was still a glimmer of hope.

But what this now meant was that now was the time to take action and with renewed confidence he straightened up his uniform and announced to all available forces, whether Turian or Salarian, the important news.

"This is the Admiral. We've reports that someone made it to the Citadel. We need to give them time to get those arms open. All fleets; Converge on the Crucible. Protect it at all costs."

This was it. This moment would decide the fate of the galaxy and all other galaxies to follow. And it all rested on one man's shoulder. Admiral Hackett couldn't think of any other soldier he could have trusted more, with the galaxies fate, than Commander Shepard. Only time would tell but the Reapers were in more danger now than they had ever been before… Now that the Commander was calling the shots.

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Author's Note: Hello all, I'm back with another Mass Effect story because I can't get enough of possibly the greatest video game series I've ever played.

Now like most I felt fairly unsatisfied by the ending but not to the extent of some gamers who would go so far as to slander Bioware for this apparent monstrosity… so instead of ranting and raving I decided to remember the good times, which was helped further by the recent DLC: Citadel and as I was playing it, and listened to Farewell and into the Enivitable which was used in the final scene. It got me thinking… Could I make a new ending within the context of the existing one and… (DUN, DUN, DUN…) I think I have.

That is the main point of this story, which will be only 4-6 chapters longer depending on how much I can write at any given time, and the purpose of this story is simple; can I change the ending into one which has both finality and clear direction for remaining characters without altering the intended ending designed by Casey Hudson. I will be working within the confines of the ending's three choices and like I said before I think I may have found a way to bring about both understanding and clarity.

I would rather not give away too much so I think it would be best if I stop there and see if I have gauged any interest from you the reader, yes you personally.

I would also like you to think of this Commander Shepard as your Commander Shepard (If he was Paragon of course and choose Miranda in Mass Effect 2 and 3) and I am hoping by the end of this story that you will both enjoy and offer your opinion of my ideas and the way I present them which still has some ways to improve.

I would be very grateful if you could leave a comment, or thought, encouragement or even constructive criticism as I am determined to become a better writer. This is not however required… so either way I hope you enjoy this chapter and come back for more.

Thank you very much and I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of A Moment for the Fallen.

P.S. If there are any beta readers out there who would like to help me in this story I would gladly welcome your expertise.

P.P.S I don't know what ammo they used in this game so I merely used bullets as a way to describe the projectile, if anyone actually knows what ammo the weapons use I would gladly listen


	2. Chapter 2: Control

Mass Effect

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A Moment for the Fallen

By Miracles79

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Chapter 2: Control

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Disclaimer: The property of Mass Effect and its Universe do not belong to me, I am merely a fan, the characters and property belong solely to Bioware.

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In a dark, repugnant corridor within Citadel station a Keeper busied itself attending to the fallen soldier's that laid strewn around its station. Piles upon piles of bodies stretching as far as the eye could see. Some of them; highly trained and well equipped soldier's displaying their state of the art armour proudly and yet, littered amongst the brave were the bodies of defenceless civilians. Women, children it mattered not to these monsters of legend. Their bloodied and battered figures, a stern reminder to all that war did not discriminate and that all would be affected whether they desired to be or not.

But still for any veteran of war seeing the sight of both women and children, their bodies broken, torn and cast asunder... that was a sight you could never grow accustomed to. It was as if some raving demented animal had been set loose, killing without remorse and without need of a conscience… in its place an insatiable hunger which would not be denied.

And yet, despite the grizzly scene, the Keepers continued their work without interruption never seeming perturbed by the damage sustained to the different alien races that now frequented their home, content to merely continue their usual operation despite the severity of the situation… as if the outcome of this war would have had hardly any effect on them.

Within the crook of the corridor a single Keeper walked over the piles of alien remains. Its four crooked legs expertly manoeuvring the bio-engineered creature towards its intended target that lay several feet away. The target in question was that of an Alliance soldier nestled within the recently collected pile nearest to the transporter, and with precise movements the Keeper reached out towards him swiftly pulling off the soldiers helmet, to reveal the figures hideously deformed features… a small trickle of blood dripping off the visor as it was discarded by the Keeper.

And then, before the Keeper even had a chance to acknowledge it, an electrical impulse began to amplify within its surroundings. Escalating in intensity before a flash of blue light converged upon the end of the hallway, drawing in both attention and whatever oxygen was left within the grotesquely cramped corridor. The Keepers took a moment to inspect the phenomenon, intrigued by its sudden occurrence, before another body was hurled high into the air.

After several revolutions mid-flight, the body skidded to a halt dust clinging to the seemingly lifeless individual who had just entered the Citadel. Content with this likely outcome, the Keepers returned to their previously assigned duties whilst keeper one trained eye on their newest and unscheduled arrival.

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"Shepard."

At the exact moment the voice emerged from his transponder Shepard's eyes darted open, taking in a much needed gulp of air to steady himself. However, as the Commander attempted to regain his breath he was forced to recoil slightly as he breathed in stale and hideously odorous air… not surprising considering the long since deceased where piled to rest here.

His body felt heavy and unresponsive once again, his arm crippling under the strain of the burns which had flayed a large section of his forearms. Grunting in pain, Shepard sat up on both knees swaying slightly as his vision blurred and the voice returned sounding urgent and unsure.

"Shepard."

Smoke billowing from his scorched and abused armour, Shepard took a moment to recuperate. Breathing steadily as he carefully inspected the many burns and open wounds that pierced his body. The pain intensifying every time he acknowledged a newly acquired battle scar… breathed in the fumes which rose from his smoking armour… or attempted to move no matter how slight the movement was.

"Anderson. You up here, too?" Shepard questioned tiredly, clenching his fists as he silently willed himself to get up on his feet.

Out of the corner of his eye Shepard noticed his heavy pistol lying several feet away from him perhaps tossed after his collision with the floor. Understanding the need to be amply protected given his desperate circumstances, Shepard crawled towards his last remaining weapon. It didn't take long for the Commander to reach the handle of his pistol, and after several failed attempts, Shepard finally gripped his M-5 Phalanx… using it for leverage as he attempted to stand.

"Followed you up, but we didn't come out the same place… at least I don't think we did. What's your surrounding look like?" Anderson replied, an exclamation of pain cutting off his speech mid-flow.

Perhaps Shepard had not been the only one to survive the beam merely scathed…?

But if that was the case then what state must the Admiral be in right now…?

Scanning his surroundings Shepard finally noticed the pile of bodies and the awful stench which confined itself to this one small corridor. The keepers going about their business as if they had not noticed his arrival or felt a need to address the issue… this was of no surprise, of course. The Keepers had always been a mystery wrapped within an enigma and he doubted they would ever be solved, at least not in his lifetime.

Ignoring the keepers indefinitely, Shepard looked towards the piles of deceased women and children; their eyes wide open, whether through fear or maybe even failed attempts at pleading, the Commander did not know but he recognized one significant thing, and that was the way their bodies had been presented. This was an all too familiar sight.

Groaning in pain, an arm held across his stomach in support, Shepard limped towards the first piles of corpses keeping an eye for any familiar faces which could be found within the grossly displayed pile. Commander Bailey, Councillor Valern, Tevos and Sparatus… in this one moment of fortune none of them had appeared before him, so far.

It was as Shepard turned to move away that he felt another surge of pain rip through his side; blood spilling from a crack in his armour as his body tensed under the scrutinizing pain which engulfed him. He staggered slight, groaning in pain as he attempted to alleviate the pressure with his hands but with little to no success what so ever.

"You okay?" Anderson asked, concern laced in his words perhaps brought on by Shepard's unrestrained growls of agony.

"I feel like death… but I'm moving." Shepard grunted, his feet pushing him forward at an unsteady pace, "It's dark… there's human remains scattered."

"Sounds familiar. I'm in a dark hallway… reminds me of your description of the collector base."

That was exactly it. It all came back to him now why this place looked so eerily familiar and yet so out of place. It was almost a mirror image of what was going on within the Collector vessel, the one he had seen personally fit to destroy. But this raised even more questions. Why were the Reapers collecting human's again? Was it to build another Reaper, a Reaper that would take the shape of a human no less?

Even from what little he could see the evidence still seemed more than plausible. The Reapers had become interested in humans ever since the Commander had destroyed one of their own, maybe this had proven humanity's versatility and regrettably made them a viable subject for Reaper indoctrination. Would the human species become the next Protheans…? To become nothing more than a shell of their former selves, twisted and manipulated to do nothing more than serve the Reapers needs?

It all made sense and the Commander reiterated as much.

"Makes sense."

"You think they're making a Reaper in here?" The Admiral asked questioningly, most likely coming across the same conclusion as the Commander, at least partly.

Rolling his shoulder due to the tension it was building up, Shepard grunted momentarily before replying.

"Sure. They round them up on earth, then send the people up here to be processed."

"Goddamn abomination. I'm going to keep moving. The sooner we blow these bastards back to hell, the better."

Nodding silently in assent the Commander stepped further through the mangle of freshly slain bodies, his eyes continuing to probe every crevice for signs of familiar faces.

"The tubes don't go on forever… but where the hell are we?" Anderson noted sounding both uncertain and lost… just like the Commander.

As Shepard looked around his vicinity he couldn't help but feel like he was in the wrong place. Nothing around him seemed familiar. Despite his many visits to Citadel station he could not quite recall it ever being this dark and unwelcoming; even when you discounted the bodies which littered the densely cramped hallway, the Citadel was always beautiful and a splendour of incredible innovation but to think that it could also house corridors this dark and dingy was slightly disconcerting.

"Yeah. Doesn't look like any part of the Citadel I've been to."

As Shepard neared the end of the hallway, Anderson's voice broke the silence with a notable ring of surprise.

"Whoa!"

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"Anderson?"

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"One of the walls here just realigned itself. The place is shifting. Changing."

As Shepard finally reached the end of the hall way he couldn't help but note that whatever was happening near Anderson was only happening to him. Within his small, cramped corridor no walls realigned themselves and the placed stayed perfectly still… never shifting or changing as Admiral Anderson's description entailed. In fact nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, so far.

"There's a chasm here… and more hallways like the one I was in."

As Shepard was about to reply, and warn the Admiral to be careful, a nearby door opened as he approached… a bright blazing light appearing from the end of another slightly more open area of the Citadel… short intermittent sounds of electricity bursting within the background as Shepard limped towards the door, checking for signs of Reapers forces within his vicinity… something didn't feel right about his.

"I think I'm near the exit."

As Shepard walked past the now closing door, he almost ignored the two soldier's lying at either side of the descending entry way. Pausing for a moment, Shepard noticed one of the soldiers' wearing a rather out of date version of the Phoenix armour… badly preserved and most likely worn as a last resort. While on its right an Alliance issue light armour of no notable significance but as he limped past these two soldier's his eyes always wondered back to them, why did he feel like those two sets of armour were out of place…?

But he didn't have time to dwell on the matter, he had to keep moving.

As Shepard descended, he watched the pillar's on either side of him moving rhythmically, electricity flaring between each pillar for whatever purpose the Commander wasn't to know. Although the sight did seem familiar, didn't the Shadow Broker's base have a similar design…?

And wasn't that design one of a kind; if Shepard remembered correctly that was what Liara had said to him…?

But even if he wanted to remember he couldn't. His vision was still slightly disorientated and his mind foggy, he couldn't remember much about his immediate past only bits and pieces… perhaps brought on by simple concussion or maybe something far more permanent. Simply put, he couldn't think clearly and as of this moment he couldn't afford to, he had to open the Citadel's arms… he had to end the Reaper threat.

As the Commander continued forward he heard the Admiral's voice cut in on his thoughts.

"I see something up ahead, might be a way to cross over."

Grunting, Shepard replied "Don't get too far ahead of me."

With several more steps unsteady steps, The Admiral responded…

"Where do you think you're at?"

Looking to his right, Shepard remembered the Admiral's recent mention of a chasm… the very same chasm he was currently viewing to his right.

Did that mean the Admiral was already ahead of him…?

Or maybe they were on different platforms to each other…?

"Just found that chasm you were talking about…"

"Hold on," Anderson remarked sounding both urgent and intrigued, "I see something. A control panel maybe. I'm just going to go ahead to check…" Suddenly interference and static crossed their line of communication forcing the Commander to stop mid-step, attempting to fix his transponder which was apparently still usable despite its slightly melted appearance.

"Anderson?" Shepard questioned urgently.

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… No response

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"Damn it!"

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With nothing but the sounds of electrical discharge reverberating around his position, Shepard quickly increased his pace… hobbling up the remaining stairs as he ignored the painful ache which had been ever present since the unavoidable impact of Harbinger's beam.

But it was as he reached the end of the hallway that he suddenly waivered, stumbling unevenly, but not due to fatigue as one might expect but because of something far more unexpected. Faltering with each disjointed step, Shepard felt his thoughts becoming fragmented… where courage and purpose had once been was replaced with a deep dark void, a dark omnipresent fog clawing and gnawing at his psyche.

Slumping against the nearby wall for support, Shepard shook his head willing the strange sensation to dissipate. But the simple act didn't seem to be working. Instead an unnervingly cold sensation gripped him. Even now he could feel it; something was dwelling deep within the recesses of his mind… a dark presence clouding his judgement.

But just like before he didn't have the time to dwell on this creepy occurrence. Every moment he wasted would result in more lives being lost to the war… people from all over the galaxy were depending on him… he was their last chance of salvation.

Pushing his weight of the wall, Shepard approached the end of the elevated hallway, staggering even more noticeably with every step, his eyes barely registering the electrical impulse which was dancing upon the air above him. As well as a bright white light which honed and blazed from the roof of this seemingly endless hallway… but eventually, as he reached its summit, he saw the man he had been corresponding with earlier; Admiral Anderson.

But as he looked closer Shepard noticed something strangely out of place. Anderson wasn't displaying any of his usual mannerisms which the Commander had grown so accustomed to, in fact his movement looked rather mechanical and unseemly by comparison… as if the Admiral was not the one in control of his body but rather attempting to fight whatever influenced his actions.

Moving closer, the Admiral seemed to hear the Commander's distant footsteps, his head lowering without even questioning whose presence was approaching. This wasn't right. The Admiral would have needed to have acknowledge his presence, to make sure it was the Commander or an approaching threat… all Alliance soldiers were trained to be ever vigilant of their surroundings, so then then why was Anderson so slow to react?

"Anderson…"

With one simple mention of the Admiral's name, Anderson turned towards but rather than turning in a seamless motion, like any sentient being was able to do, he did something far more concerning. As Shepard watched, the Admiral took several carefully managed steps to turn in his direction; performing a movement which the Commander could have only compared to the Geth or other less developed artificial intelligence.

This was not the only thing which troubled the Commander however; the expression on the Admiral's face was also something which caused alarm. Clenching his teeth, his features displaying both pain and an evident internal struggle as the Admiral moved closer without having any power over such a decision… something was controlling him, that much was certain.

"Shepard… I can't…"

Noticing Anderson's discomfort, Shepard attempted to move closer; only for his body to become unresponsive to his wishes. He couldn't move…? Why couldn't he move…?

…

"I underestimated you, Shepard." Said a familiar, almost pompous sounding voice.

But as Shepard turned to acknowledge the voice a sudden, loud and painful ringing amplified within his ears. The intensity and trauma of this incomprehensibly eerie sound forced the Commander to shut his eyes and grimace in unrestrained agony… his head dropping as he attempted to, ineffectively, fight off the pain which resonated within his body and distorted his already hazy vision.

"What have…" Shepard asked before the pain silenced whatever words he might have said.

Stepping into Shepard's vision, the Illusive Man turned towards him; a confident aura exuding from his presence…

"I warned you. Control is the means to survival. Control of the Reapers…" The Illusive Man stated, turning to the Commander as if to reinforce his next point, "… and of you, if necessary."

As the Illusive Man turned, Shepard saw his damaged features. Dark and unflattering marks seemed to crawl up the Illusive Man's face and every visible piece of skin, threatening to consume whatever remained of his features and perhaps even the little that remained of his humanity. The sudden abrupt change confounded the Commander. What could possibly deform such a man to this extent? And for what reason would the Illusive Man have allowed this to happen?

Groaning in pain the Admiral spoke… the hate in his voice practically palpable as he questioned the Illusive Man's reasoning, and regarded the human centric terrorist who was known only as the Illusive Man.

"They're controlling you."

Taking a moment to look in Anderson's direction, the Illusive Man spoke plainly. No word of malice in his voice rather a note of blatant dismissal.

"I don't think so, Admiral."

Meanwhile, Shepard struggled to will his pistol to move. The Commander realising the hopelessness of his situation quickly switched tactics, if you couldn't fight then perhaps you could reason and the Commander could be very convincing when he wanted to.

But still, even with his impressive diplomatic skills, could Commander Shepard convince the Illusive Man to see things his way? Perhaps even convince him to join their cause?

Throughout all their conversations the Illusive Man had appeared unsure and dismissed every previous accusation without his usual confidence… could he perhaps make the Illusive Man his ally, or convince him… like he did Saren?

"Controlling me is a lot different than controlling a Reaper."

Pondering on Shepard's words the Illusive Man raised his hand to his chin, eyes fixed upon the Commanders, his hand massaging his chin as he considered Shepard's words.

"Have a little faith." The Illusive Man dismissed, walking around the two paralysed soldier's as he spoke. "When humanity discovered the mass relays… When we learned there was more to the galaxy than we imagined… there were some who thought the mass relays should be destroyed. They were scared of what we'd find. Terrified of what we might let in."

"But look at what humanity has achieved! Since that discovery, we've advanced more than the past 10,000 years combined. And the Reapers will do the same for us again, a thousand fold. But…"

Suddenly, as the Illusive Man purposely halted his speech, the pain in Shepard's brain intensified once again; far beyond the point of reason and nearing the point of irreversible damage. As Shepard held his hand to his forehead, in an attempt to gain some form of relief, the Commander swayed and struggled unaware that the Admiral was in the same predicament, only a few metres away.

"**YoU CaNt WiN…"**

"**He BeTrAyEd YoU…"**

"**We WiLl Be YoUr SaLvAtIon!"**

…

As Shepard attempted to supress these increasing voices, they began to slowly dissipate… his stream of consciousness returning only to be welcomed by an impossible sight. The sight of his heavy pistol directed ahead of him… towards Anderson.

He couldn't control it. No matter how much he fought the straining impulse, his pistol stayed pointed at the Admiral… at the man who had become his father figure, his inspiration to the cause.

"… Only if we can harness their ability to control."

"Bullshit…" Anderson interjected "We destroy them or they destroy us."

Anderson still remained defiant and seemingly unconcerned by the weapon by pointed at him by the Commander and instead merely regarding the Illusive Man with both bewilderment and hatred.

"And waste this opportunity? Never."

Shepard meanwhile continued to fight the harsh whispers which pervaded and tormented his mind, not to mention the very real inclination he had to pull the trigger. The fog gradually started to clear from his mind as the Commander spoke, giving the Illusive Man one last final chance at redemption. A chance he should not have been allowed but one that the Commander believed he was owed.

"You're playing with things you don't understand. With power you shouldn't be able to use."

"I…" The Illusive Man stammered unsurely, facing away from the Admiral and Shepard as he pondered this very unlikely but still plausible possibility. "Don't believe that. If we can control it, why shouldn't it be ours?"

"Because… we're not ready."

The Illusive Man looked at the Commander for several moments, not only pondering his words but the tone behind them. Was the Illusive Man's belief slipping even a little?

"No. This is the way humanity must evolve."

"There's always another way." The Admiral interjected, his eyes never leaving the Illusive Man who regarded him for a mere moment before turning his attention back to the Commander.

"I've dedicated my life to understanding the Reapers, and I know with certainty: The Crucible will allow me to control them."

"A-and then what?" Shepard asked, his voice muffled slightly as sharp jolts of pain reached across his abdomen… each one a personal blow to his determination and will to fight.

"Look at the power they wield," The Illusive Man stated proudly, excitement laced in his voice. "Look at what they can do!"

And as the Illusive Man brought forth a powerful, almost biotic like, field around his hand. Shepard's finger jolted against the trigger, firing before he could even realise what he was doing. The trajectory of the bullet collided with the left side of the Admiral's abdomen, the blood spilling out as Anderson recoiled from the new entry wound… his head snapping back and lulling as he inspected the damage.

With a new wave of understanding, and disgust for what the Illusive Man had made him do, Shepard shook his head. It was thoroughly clear now. The Illusive Man was beyond saving, beyond redemption. He had been influenced by the Reapers to become nothing more than a puppet, and as easily dispensable as the many husks the Commander had dispatched throughout this war.

"I see what they did to you?"

"I took what I wanted form them! Made it my own! This isn't about me or you. It's about things so much bigger than all of us."

"He's wrong…" Anderson winced, his eyes focused on the Commander as he spoke "Don't listen to him."

"And who will you listen to, Shepard? An old soldier, stuck in his ways, only able to see the world down the barrel of a gun?" The Illusive Man questioned, motioning towards the battered and bloodied Admiral who could merely clench his stomach where the bullet of the Commander's pistol now rested.

"And what if he's wrong? What if controlling the Reapers is the answer?"

…

He was wrong. Controlling the Reapers could never be the answer, and Shepard knew this. Throughout all his life he had been the voice which demanded action against the Reapers, to protect against the most devastating force this galaxy had ever seen. If the Illusive Man spoke true and there was a way to control the Reapers then that meant the threat would still exist, and if that power fell into the wrong hands?

Who knows what would happen…?

Better to end this oppressive threat then see it live and wreak havoc in another lifetime…

Shepard needed this world to be safe. This war had cost him many things but there was still one thing it hadn't taken away from him, and that was Miranda… If he was to fulfil his promise and raise a family with her then he needed to let go of the life he used to live, a life filled with endless slaughter. But how could he do that if a danger still lurked in the dark…?

The Illusive Man was wrong but the Commander knew what needed to be said and what needed to be done. He had to question the Illusive Man's judgement, the one thing that the Illusive Man was so sure of and yet the one thing which could be his undoing. And in this, the Commander knew just how to undermine the Illusive Man's oh so confident speech.

"If we destroy the Reapers, this ends today. But if you can't control them…"

"B-but I can…" The Illusive Man stated urgently, his confidence draining by the second.

Now the cracks were appearing, the Illusive Man's desperation to validate his reasoning was becoming abundantly clear. It was as if, throughout all of his speech, the Illusive Man was not only trying to convince the Commander of his intentions… but also himself.

As Shepard watched the Illusive Man toil away, concern and confusion evident on his features as he paced back and forth… suddenly unsure of himself and his own misguided motivations.

Looking the Illusive Man squarely in the eyes, Shepard continued to speak.

"Are you willing to bet humanity's existence on it?"

"I…" The Illusive Man spoke unsurely, shaking his head as if that simple act could wash away all the confusion… all the voices which had assured him of his appropriate intentions and methods, no matter how unsightly and sinister they might have been.

"I-I know it will work."

"You can't, can you? They won't let you do it."

"No…" The Illusive Man shouted angrily, the fact that his own control was being questioned was frightening to say the least. "… I'm in control. No one's telling me what to do…"

"Listening to yourself…" Anderson stated loudly, his eyes tracing over the Illusive Man as he spoke, "You're indoctrinated."

"No." The Illusive Man stated worriedly, before turning angrily towards the Admiral "No! The two of you, so self-righteous. Do you think power like this comes easy? There are sacrifices…"

As Shepard listened to the Illusive Man's barely thought out excuses, the Commander began to realise that his fingers, which still gripped his heavy pistol, were now responding to his will… but even as the Illusive Man turned away, completely at the Commander's mercy. Shepard did not act. Instead of using his weapon, he continued to play to the Illusive Man's conscience or whatever remained of the man Shepard had once considered a valuable resource.

"You've sacrificed too much."

"Shepard. I…" The Illusive Man stuttered, struggling to find his words. To him none of this made any sense. He had always been in control, throughout his entire life… hadn't he?

"I-I only wanted to protect humanity. The Crucible can control them. I know it can. I just…"

Despite the Illusive Man's words, the Commander noticed how he rubbed his hands together nervously. Perhaps he was beginning to doubt himself. And with this new thought in mind the Commander ventured forth.

"It's not too late. Let us go. We'll do the rest."

"I… I can't do that, Commander."

"Of course you can't…" The Admiral interjected, a troubling yet obvious truth in his words "… they own you now."

"You…" The Illusive Man stated darkly, his hand reaching to the pistol which rested at the Admiral's hip. Pulling it from its confinement and mulling it over as he continued "you'd undo everything I've accomplished. I won't let that happen."

As the Commander watched the Illusive Man's every movement, a sudden realisation hit him… he no longer felt any anger towards his greatest rival, no contempt and not even hatred. But pity. He was no more than a shell of his former self… a shell which had failed to stop the Reapers and had fallen to its thrall.

"Because of you. Humanity is already undone."

"That's not true…" The Illusive Man claimed, frustration growing as the words Shepard spoke began to make more sense, more sense than the voices which whispered in his mind. Whispers that were growing fainter and fainter with every word Shepard uttered.

"They have the Citadel! They have us fighting each other, instead of fighting them."

"I just need to." The Illusive Man said desperately, stretching for anything which could strengthen his resolve, his belief that he was doing what was best for humanity, searching for anything to undermine the possibility that he had become nothing more than a tool for the Reapers, and had betrayed his own beliefs in favour of Reaper indoctrination. Something he was so sure he had evaded, until now.

"You've done exactly as the Reapers wanted! You're still doing it, because they control you!"

"I… Their too strong."

The Illusive Man doubled back, his resolve broken as he attempted to silence the voices which amplified within his mind. Coaxing and whispering things which only he could hear but not comprehend. He had no control, and he couldn't fight against them. It was too late."

"You're stronger! Don't let them win! Break their hold, don't let them control you."

As the Illusive Man gazed at both the Commander and Anderson, he turned away from them, his eyes scanning across the Citadel… a place he had rarely seen, and a place that he would never see again.

"I tried, Shepard."

And with this last admittance of guilt, The Illusive Man raised the pistol to his eye line… turning it within his grasp as he prepared himself.

Shepard instantly knew what was going to happen, he wanted to stop it but as the Illusive Man had previously said, their hold on him was already too great, the Commander would give him these last few moments; allow him to exact some measure of control over his life. Deliver a personal blow against the Reapers…

And with a final grimace of defeat, the Illusive Man placed the heavy pistol against his cranium… and fired a single bullet clean through his cerebral cortex.

The Illusive Man had taken his own life, in a last moment of defiance against the Reapers…

… Finally, he had control.

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Author's Note:

I won't lie; I had so much trouble with this chapter. I can't begin to tell you how many times I edited this. I fear that my message and purpose may have been undermined by my frequent changes because it looks nothing like the plan I currently have in front of me…

I promised you all an update this week, but I unfortunately forgot that I'm supposed to attend a number of meetings soon and I haven't even prepared for it so for now at least this chapter will have to suffice, it was a rushed chapter but I think it's still readable. I may have to improve it later…

Despite that I hope you liked it, there weren't many significant changes from the actual scene but I merely wanted to build suspense for the next chapter… The next chapter will be the part where I make my changes, and hopefully offer some form of finality for the characters.

There will be 2 more chapters after the next one, and then that will be the end of this story.

**I would be grateful if someone could beta read my next few chapter of this story, if you're interested just send me a message, review whatever you fancy… but I think my work will greatly improve with the help of a beta reader…**

Well thank you all for the wonderful reviews and story alerts etc It is always relieving to know that someone cares enough about my work to show support, I can't thanks you guys and gals enough… All the best and I'll begin writing the next chapter in the next few weeks…

:D

Criticism, support etc very much welcome…


	3. Chapter 3: A Hero's Death

Mass Effect

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A Moment for the Fallen

By Miracles79

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Chapter 3: A Hero's death

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Disclaimer: The property of Mass Effect and its Universe do not belong to me, I am merely a fan, the characters and property belong solely to Bioware.

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"I'm sorry, Commander."

…

As the Illusive Man collapsed to the floor, blood began to emerge from beneath him, and as Shepard watch his prone adversary he felt the invisible restraints which surrounded his body lessen and slack altogether. Experimentally, Shepard moved his fingers within his palm… feeling and movement was starting to return to his throbbing limbs, all at once. The Illusive Man's control over him was no more ended in the man's last moment of defiance against the Reapers.

But with this new sense of control it brought back unrestrained pain which began to gradually return tenfold. Despite the ache and throbbing in his limbs becoming far more pronounced Shepard staggered forward, grimacing at the seemingly impossible task of walking despite its previous ease. He needed rest, every muscle in his body was screaming for it but he couldn't be afforded such a luxury. Shepard still has one last task to fulfil. Opening the arms to the citadel, that was all it would take. Hardly heroic, or what historians would consider as a last stand, but that was all it would take to end this war… and Shepard was fine with that.

Walking towards the nearby console, Shepard watched Anderson collapse to the ground within his peripheral vision. As much as it pained him to admit, Shepard would have to see to Anderson's wounds later… but from the gunshot wound, which was leaking an exorbitant amount of blood, Shepard knew that Anderson's time was short.

Without an energy shield, or even regulation standard armour, a simple gunshot wound to the abdomen could kill even the toughest and most famous of soldiers. But that was the unfortunate life of a soldier. One mistake, one lapse of concentration could spell the end of their lives. But often that would mean doubly so when they were resting or off duty.

Many people, whether they be Turian or even human, held grudges against the Alliance. Most likely due to their involvement in Council matters during a time when the Council races infrastructure was weakened by the Geth attack. Many saw humanity as opportunists. Cutting deep into wounds which had not fully healed yet and taking what they had not rightfully earned.

And what better way was there to settle a grudge then by publically assassinating the most prominent figures of that Council's race. This had always been the life that both Shepard and Anderson had to deal with. Forced into battle after battle and then thrust into a world of backroom politics and bureaucracy which would influence entire galaxy's… making more enemies then friends along the way.

But to see Anderson suffering, clutching frantically at his abdomen with muttered curses, knowing that he, Shepard, was the cause of all of the Admiral's discomfort… that was something the Commander would regret for the rest of his life, or of what little time he had left.

Even though Shepard had no control over his actions, no control over shooting a man who had been his father figure, ever since the death of his own family on Mindoir, not even that obvious face managed to reassure him. He should have fought back. Why didn't he fight back against the Illusive Man's control and manipulation? Why did he walk straight into the Illusive Man's trap? The Commander should have known, he was better than that and yet something as simple as pain and exhaustion had managed to cloud his mind and that of his judgement.

… None of this should have happened.

At the mention of the Illusive Man Shepard looked towards the crumpled figure, his back facing the Commander, the pistol still clutched within his withered hands. But as the Commander was about to pass and ignore his cowardly foe, he suddenly stopped in his tracks… stopped by a sight which he had not been expecting. Turning back to face the Illusive Man, Shepard staggered around his fallen foe and acknowledged the surprising truth.

Throughout his short life the Commander had seen many expressions tethered to the Illusive Man's composed features. While the Illusive Man seemed to always carry an air of smugness about him, it was his expression which always caught the Command off guard. Whether angry, concerned, reluctant… The Illusive Man never seemed truly at ease and rather, at least during his brief unacknowledged allegiance with the Reapers; he seemed to always be on edge coupled with frequent bouts of paranoia thrown into this unsettling equation.

And yet when the Commander looked down at the crumpled body of the Illusive Man he noticed a new expression painted across his face; in place of anger and frustration there was… peace. The Illusive Man was finally at peace. And as the Commander thought back he suddenly realised something, despite having known the Illusive Man for several years he had never seen him looking truly content.

Smiling slightly, the Commander knelt beside the Illusive Man and whispered one last thing before he left. Words which were spoken with both honesty and a single glimmer of hope… In the end the Illusive Man had been nothing more than a slave to the Reapers, just like Saren, and like the man before him the Commander had offered the Illusive Man one last chance at absolution… and from the peaceful expression which was etched across his features it looked like had had finally attained just that.

"I hope you found peace in the end…"

With several scrapped and exhausted footsteps, the Commander finally reached the console. Fatigue caused him to lean against the device heavily for support, his head bowed as he attempted to take a moment to catch his breath. As Shepard struggled to breath however he pondered on something which was troubling him greatly; since when did a distance of around twenty metres cause him so much distress?

Perhaps the damage sustained to his body was far worse than he initially anticipated. And as the Commander opened his eyes, sweat dripping from his forehead, he carefully examined his dented armour, and the irreversible damage which lay underneath… then, after taking one look at the damage, Shepard was forced to look away for his own wellbeing.

Yes, the damage was far worse than he had feared.

His hands, which rested either side of the control panel, trembled slightly from the effort of keep himself upright. His skin was deathly pale, and where the skin was not pale, blood stained its surface. But the most sickening sight of all was from within the jagged cracks of his armour, blood spilling out in droves in what could have only resembled a slowly pouring fountain.

How much blood loss had he suffered at the hands of the Reapers?

Why did he feel so tired? And why were his eye lids becoming heavier?

The world around him becoming steadily darker?

Groaning in exhaustion, the Commander shook his head vehemently in an effort to re-awaken his drowsy senses. The control panel blurring within his vision, swaying slightly as the Commander staggered back several paces… But with what little energy remained, the Commander collapsed against the console kneeling against it as the scenery around him shifted and elongated to numerous levels.

Refocusing his attention of the console, Shepard lifted himself up by grabbing the far end of the console for support while his other hand rested above the console. He knew how to open the arms… but for some reason the multiple panels he needed to press seemed to merge with other far less useful ones. His eyes strained to acknowledge even the first panel he needed to press in the unexpectedly short sequence. Why was this so hard?

The lights and the beeping from the console only helped to blind and nauseate the Commander as his hand remained lifted above the console, waiting for the moment when his vision would clear and he could open the arms like what had been expecting from him ever since he landed on Earth.

Eventually, and after a prolonged period of time, Shepard's vision gradually returned to him and his drowsy thoughts became clear, Without waiting for another bout of exhaustion, the Commander shakily entered the sequence into the control panel… his fingers requiring a lot more pressure then he remembered as he pressed down on each individual panel.

But finally, as the Commander pressed in the very last panel, he came to realise something remarkable… It was done.

He had done it, and as if to reiterate this point the arms of the Citadel began to open, mechanical screeching emitting from the stations hinges as they opened to the most breath taking sight Shepard had seen in what felt like years. The sight of luscious landscape surrounded by oceans of water far off in the distance, the sight of humanity's first home… Earth.

As Shepard watched through the small expanse of space that the Citadel was offering, at least at the moment, the Commander noticed the faint outline of the Crucible… approaching steadily. But as the arms began to open wider Shepard's discreet smile vanished completely as he saw the massacre which reigned in Earth's sky. Hundreds upon thousands of debris entered and passed the Citadels arms, some with Alliance notations burnt out of their hull while others belonged to allied races who had joined the fight. Occasionally, Shepard would notice destroyed Reaper vessels in amongst the debris but even that wasn't enough to dissuade him from the truth. The Reapers were suffering no losses and had lost no ground whatsoever.

But nevertheless all of that would change soon…

Soon the Reapers would suffer for all their harvestings that had occurred in this generation and many before. After all Shepard had succeeded in his goal, Commander Shepard had done what was asked of him despite the unexpected interference from both Harbinger and the Illusive Man. He had beaten the odds yet again. He had played his in this war, a significant part I might add, and now it was time to reap the rewards of all his hard work.

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Meanwhile, deep within Alliance command, Admiral Hackett watched in evident relief as the arms to the Citadel unexpectedly began to open. For the past four hours Alliance command had received no word from Shepard, or sign of activity from within the Citadel, since the Commander had seemingly entered the station. Many within command had even gone so far as to declare him KIA but like all those numerous times before it seemed they had underestimated a man who was renowned for achieving the impossible.

It was a relief to be able to receive some good news for a change; things on the war front had been looking pretty desperate. The Reapers were losing little to no ground and to exacerbate things further, Reaper reinforcements had arrived through the Omega 4 relay, which led to the Collector home world, in increasing numbers. Things had been looking dire and this was further evidenced in their latest strategic plan which was for all forces to attack the beam head on, in the slender hope that at least one man could make it through the Reapers mounting protection. A suicidal tactic but at the time the Alliance military were becoming desperate but not anymore.

With a notably calm expression, the Admiral watched as increasing numbers of his marines left their posts to look outside the pilot's window for further confirmation of this unexpected phenomenon. The marines hooted and cheered joyously at the sight but without a second to lose Admiral Hackett quickly silenced his men and began relaying orders at a feverish pace, they couldn't afford to let an opportunity like this slip them by and the Admiral knew this.

… Maybe, just maybe they could win this war after all.

"This is it, everyone. The arms are opening."

As the Crucible approached, the protective shell which surrounded its frame began to disengage one by one. Differing sizes of metal which coated the Crucible, some which had been scorched by stray beams from Reaper weaponry, began to routinely detach in an almost rhythmic synchronisation; allowing the arms further within to expand outwards just as it had been designed to. The design was on a massive technological scale never before seen by man, so much so that the scientists who helped build it had no idea of what its purpose was or how it would affect the rest of the known galaxy. Simple to create but impossible to understand.

"Ten seconds to contact."

As the thick pieces of metal began to float in its wake, the Crucible proceeded towards the Citadel. Opening in accordance tot both its design and purpose. And as the marines within Command nervously held their breath they were greeted with the necessary clang of contact, the marines hurrying back to their positions after a moment of celebration.

The Crucible had lodged itself into place without any unforeseen problems…

"That's it! The Crucible is docked!"

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Back at Citadel station, the control console began to flicker in and out of life. The lights fading into nothing as it finally ceased its operation altogether. But before the Commander could register this unexpected occurrence, his attention was grabbed by Anderson who was groaning in pain during his effort to sit upright and against the slightly taller platform which rested behind him.

Moving closer, Shepard struggled to sit beside his most trusted superior. An exclamation of pain reverberating around the control centre as the Commander fell rather gingerly beside Anderson. Neither had much time left, and as both thought this they realised that they could not have asked for better company in their final moments. The Admiral and his protégé, the finest humanity had to offer… side by side until the very end.

"Commander." Anderson acknowledged, nodding almost ironically, as if this entire situation did not have finality written all over it… as if this was just a normal day for two battle worn soldiers.

"We did it."

"Yes… we did."

As Anderson responded his eyes were seemingly pulled to the sight of Earth through the nearby window, a small smile tugging at his lips as he regarded it. Earth, the birthplace of humanity and the most beautiful sight the Admiral had seen in a long while especially when you compared it to the sight of the numerous dead that had been dumped on top of one another during his time on Earth. It was good to know that what they were fighting for was worth the risk; in the end Earth would be more than it once was. It would remain a symbol of humanity's beginning but also; its moment defiance in the face of adversity… this would be were the war was won, on Earth.

"It's quite a view."

Laughing slightly, although it had been concealed within a gasp of pain, Shepard nodded. Earth really was beautiful.

"Best seats in the house." Shepard replied, grimacing as the pain continued to cripple his body even during such an important and personal time.

"God…" Anderson pondered aloud ", Feels like years since I just… sat down." Anderson remarked, his voice sounding strained and notably faint.

Shepard turned to look at Anderson, his eyes carefully watching the Admiral who looked so painfully tired. As the Commander regarded humanity's first council member, Shepard tried to keep a composed expression despite the pain, both physical and emotional, which continued to cripple him; watching ashamedly as Anderson's hold around his gunshot wound loosened and his body began to sag very slightly.

Was this it?

Was this the end for Anderson?

"I think you earned a rest." Shepard said, his head lulling as he tried to keep his focus fixed on the Admiral… his own consciousness slipping little by little.

"Mmm." Anderson murmured, his eye lids drooping as his head rolled from side to side; trying to stay awake for as long as possible.

With concern, Shepard watched as Anderson's head began to dip further and further… his eyes fluttering as he attempted to battle against the oppressive darkness which was clawing at him from all sides. Fatigue attempting lull him into inaction but despite this Anderson continued to battle its effects, he had so many things he needed to say to the Commander… he had to get it out before he died, he owed John Shepard at least that.

"Anderson, stay with me… we're almost through this."

Anderson, with the last amount of strength he could manage, turned to face the Commander his eye lids heavy and his voice sounding more tired and worn by the second.

But as Anderson turned Shepard looked away, he couldn't face him… he couldn't watch his friend, his mentor, his father figure die with his own two eyes. He just couldn't. Anderson, who had put so much belief and trust in him. Anderson, who would have followed him until the bitter end in this war with the Reapers… how could he watch Anderson die knowing that he could of stopped it?

"You did good, son. You did good… I'm proud of you."

And with those final words Anderson's head finally dipped below Shepard's eye line, and without Shepard's knowledge… the Admiral died saying the words he had always wanted to tell the Commander. Because in the end, after their journey together, there was one thing the Admiral could be proud of and that was Commander Shepard… the first human spectre but most importantly the man who had had Shepard's back more times than he could remember. And he would have done it all over again if he could.

"Thank you, sir."

Unaware, Shepard turned to face the Admiral waiting to hear his reply. He needed to keep the Admiral talking, to prolong his life as long as possible… at least until helped arrived. But there was no respond forthcoming. Recognizing this, Shepard lowered his head trying to catch Anderson's eye despite them being closed… with no signs of life remaining whatsoever.

"Anderson?"

…

He was gone.

A hollow feeling came over Shepard at the moment of realisation and with great effort the Commander closed his eyes trying to keep all the precious memories at bay. After all Anderson had done for him… Allowing Shepard to take control over the Normandy SR-1 despite an early retirement, trusting in Shepard when he spoke out about the Reaper threat, informing Shepard about his past and his bloody history with Saren, Becoming the first human council member in humanity's history, supporting Shepard when the Council wanted information about his recent re-emergence and connection with Cerberus…

So many memories…

So much trust placed in him, and Shepard had never gotten the chance to thank him for all of it…

Opening his eyes, Shepard realised he was now alone… alone with the pain and the grief. He had lost so much in such a small time span; Mordin, Thane, Kaiden were just the tip of the ice berg and now Anderson would be a part of that group… But the thing that pained him most of all was the mirror situation that both he and Anderson would pay for.

Both of them would be leaving loved ones, and hopes of a family behind…

Kahlee Sanders. Anderson had talked about her often and at one point had even admitted that he wanted to settle down with her after the war, just like Shepard had planned to do with Miranda Lawson. So many similarities between both men, so tired of war and content with looking towards a future where Reapers occupation was nothing more than a thing of the past… and where they could see out their lives with the women they lived.

But that was no longer possible for Admiral Anderson…

Would it even be possible for Shepard?

As Shepard contemplated this he suddenly felt his abdomen throb painfully, causing his body to jostle in place as he applied more pressure to the gaping hole in his stomach. Looking down a gunshot wound was buried deep in his abdomen. How it got there, Shepard couldn't remember but the pain was very much familiar… the ache persisted and nausea that it brought with it increased tenfold.

Was this it?

Was he next?

Shepard raised his hand slightly to see fresh and dried blood clinging to one another, the sight was sickening no matter how many times the Commander had seen it. But the physical damage could be repaired in time, as long as he lived to fight another day, but the mind was another matter entirely. After all, the body may heal but the mind is not always so resilient.

And with this knowledge firmly intact, Shepard merely watched the Earth out of the nearby window… if you had seen Shepard and Anderson from behind you would have thought them still alive and merely enjoying the sight of Earth off in the distance, but unfortunately you would have only been half true but nevertheless the sight was one of friendship and trust which could not be measured.

Regrettably, the Commander felt ready to die now; he didn't have much choice in the matter. The future he wished to share with Miranda Lawson was nothing more than an idle fantasy at this point, and maybe that was all it really was in the end.

A woman designed to be perfect and a man who had accomplished things that no one would ever believe. And yet these two anomalies of existence had found one another, and not only found one another but fallen in love when neither wanted or expected it. Miranda was the only thing in Shepard's mind when he accomplished the impossible but there was one thing that continued to torture him.

Shepard knew, and it was painful to admit, but people like himself and Miranda very rarely reached a happy ending… and it seemed now would be no different.

"I'm sorry, Miranda…"

Settling himself beside Anderson, Shepard gradually began to let his eyes close… darkness engulfing the Commander as leaned against the Admiral for support.

…

"Shepard…"

…

Was that… a voice?

Opening his eyes Shepard looked around his vicinity, no one was around, at least nobody alive that is.

"Commander."

Hackett… Admiral Hackett?

What was going on…?

Straightening up, Shepard looked outside the window towards the colossal structure of the Crucible looming within his view… but as he looked closer he noticed it hadn't moved or shown any signs of activity since it had docked. Nothing was happening, why was nothing happening?

Trying to shake the exhaustion and fatigue from his limbs, Shepard attempted to stand up on weakened legs. He was tired, so very tired. Shepard had thought that his part in this war was over but that had been proven wrong in an instant. Humanity still needed him, Miranda still needed him. The Commander might not have been able to offer Miranda a future with him, like he had promised, but he would at least offer her a future free of Reaper control.

"I - - What do you need me to do?"

Struggling, Shepard pushed himself away from the elevated platform and crawled towards the control console. He fell again and again, he groaned in agony countless times but he never stopped… he still kept moving. His body crumpled to the ground but he forced himself up just as soon as he collapsed, he was not finished, not yet… he still had one last job to do.

"Nothing's happening. The Crucible's not firing."

The Commander's legs wouldn't bend to support his weight anymore and with one final effort he collapsed against the floor once again, his head lulling from side to side… his vision blurring and causing him motion sickness at the speed the station was revolving. Staggering to his knees Shepard fell backwards, his eyes trying to scan his surroundings for any sign of the command console.

"It's got to be something on your end."

Gritting his teeth in unimaginable pain and exhaustion, Shepard crawled his way towards the command console. Bloody hands slipping over the pristine and recently polished surface, blood smearing the ground below him as he battled the increasing ache in his limbs… why was this happening? Why couldn't anything just be simple for once?

But despite this the Commander pressed on…

"Commander Shepard!"

Admiral Hackett sounded almost impatient and anger began to rise in him, channelling this anger appropriately Shepard feed on whatever energy was left available to him. He had to do this. The memory of Miranda spurred him on; the woman who had resurrected him, the woman he had comforted and eventually fallen in love with was worth all this pain and much more. He would not die without giving her life.

His vision blurring and shifting once again, Shepard reached out towards the console while his eyes remained unfocused and groggy. His arm felt heavy, too heavy and the darkness around him began to claw at his psyche… the ache in his limbs feeling far off as if he was detached from his own body.

"I don't see - - I'm not sure how to…"

His body finally gave in to the pain and with little effort the Commander collapsed in front of the command console. The sight was almost a mirror image of Mordin's battle against his own pain back on Tuchanka… but on that occasion Mordin had succeeded, withstood the pain and administered the cure to the entire Krogan population, he had achieved his goal but the same could not be said for Commander Shepard.

"Commander?"

…

…

It was over, Commander Shepard had failed. Miranda Lawson had not only lost the man of her dreams but any hope of a future. Along with trillions of people from this century and beyond, all had been relying on him… and he had failed.

This was it, The Reapers had won.

…

…

Just at that moment, as Shepard's mind slipped into unconsciousness… a white light shone upon the Commander and he was raised high into the air by some mystical power…

Maybe things weren't over after all…

…

"Wake up."

* * *

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.

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Author's Note:

I apologize for the slightest rushed ending; it was not due to exhaustion this time although I have been writing for 4-5 hours. But instead due to work which has been trying to ruin my life for a while now, unfortunately exams are approaching for my class and I have been unable to work on any of my stories for the past 2 months… In fact I have to get back to planning soon which is why this author's note will also be rushed.

I hope this chapter is fine with you because I could only find time to do some writing today, which is essentially my first break in about a month. But I felt the need to update this particular story before I updated my other one which will be sometime tomorrow for any readers of Empty Places…

I would be very grateful if you would offer you opinion or perspective on this chapter because it has already helped me improve as a writer vastly. Constructive criticism is very much welcomed as is story alerts etc etc

Anyway, thanks once again for reading and I hope to update the next chapter sometime soon although when I am unsure of… check my profile page frequently for more information on that as I update quite regularly.

All the best

Miracles79…..


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